


found family from a broken one

by kyotoc418



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Coming Out, Found Family, Gen, Homeless Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Parent Cara | CaptainPuffy, Running Away, Trans Character, Trans Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Trans Male Character, Trans Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), deadnaming tw, some beginning chapters will be Puffy-centric because she is poggers, there's so much swearing here sorry, what do I put here uhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29991414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyotoc418/pseuds/kyotoc418
Summary: (This is about dsmp characters, not about people)Puffy didn’t really have plans for the day.Even so, waking up at 1 AM to her phone blowing up was not how she thought her Sunday morning would start off at all.Or: Dream gets kicked out of the house for being trans and Puffy acquires a son
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, it's the found family your honor
Comments: 27
Kudos: 219
Collections: Dream SMP AU





	1. sorry mother, sorry I let you down.

**Author's Note:**

> back again with the writing i cant post anywhere else
> 
> Dream’s deadname is Charlie, he's like 15 here. (Huge TW for deadnaming in the first chapter; he’s not out to Puffy yet)  
> His mum’s name is Adha, not sure if that’ll be relevant at all.  
> His mum is a complete dick. That is absolutely relevant. (TW for abuse)

Puffy didn’t really have plans for the day. 

Even so, waking up at 1 AM to a furiously ringing phone was not how she thought her Sunday morning would start off at all.

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she grabbed the phone off her bedside table and swiped up. _18 missed calls. Who the hell would call at this hour?_

Her confusion only grew upon finding out exactly who was blowing up her phone. _Charlie? Why in the world?_

She picked up on the second ring. “Charlie-” She yawned. “Why are you calling in the middle of the night? Everything okay?”

On the other end of the line, Charlie sounded like she was sobbing. “I- no, Auntie Puffy I need help, please-”

Puffy got up instantly. Charlie was crying. Charlie _never_ cried. She’d seen the kid get into countless fights, fall down a hill one time too many, had even driven her to the hospital once after breaking her foot in an ill-advised game of manhunt- and through it all she’d brag about never crying, not even once. 

So it was terrifying to hear her niece sobbing through a phone at 1 in the morning. 

“Duckling, what’s going on? Are you safe?”

“Uh, I think- I think so.”

 _I think so?_ Puffy wanted to ask what the hell the kid meant by that, but Charlie was talking again. 

“I’m just- I’m outside right now.”

That made absolutely nothing less worrying. 

“I don’t know where to go, could- could I stay with you for a while?”

Puffy ran a hand through her hair. What was happening? “Um. Yes, of course you can stay, but what do you mean you’re outside? It’s 1 AM.”

Charlie sighed into the phone, evidently still crying. “If I send you my location, could- could you please come pick me up? I’m sorry Auntie.”

Puffy pushed all her questions to the back of her mind. Charlie might be in trouble. 

“It’s okay, duckling. I’m on my way”

  
  


Charlie’s location turned out to be some random park halfway between her mom’s apartment building and Puffy’s, and it was quite a long ways away from either of them. Puffy glanced at the marked location while driving, wondering briefly if the kid had been trying to run away from home and had had to stop halfway. She wouldn’t put it past her, to be honest. Running away from home was right up her duckling’s alley. Although, running away from home seemed like the sort of thing that should ideally not be happening in the middle of the night in February when it was -15 degrees outside. Running away from home seemed like the sort of thing that should ideally _not_ be happening under normal home circumstances, with a normally functional family. 

God, Puffy _really_ hoped she wasn’t running away.

Puffy parked the car as quick as possible and set off across the park. Fuck, it was cold. She hoped Charlie hadn’t caught hypothermia in the time it took for her to drive over, another awful thing to worry about. She looked around, hoping to find the kid quickly. The park was practically deserted, leafless trees laden with snow under the orange glow of streetlights. The only person in sight was one small figure huddled on a wooden bench, wrapped in a green hoodie. 

Aha. 

She hurried over to the bench. Charlie was shivering violently, curled up atop a spot cleared of snow, clutching a backpack to her chest. A backpack. Maybe she really _was_ running away. Puffy edged closer to put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Charlie?”

Charlie flinched like her hand was hot iron, jumping off the bench.

“Hey, it’s okay duckling! It’s just me.” 

She visibly relaxed at that, her face fading from panicked to relieved and exhausted in a matter of seconds. “Auntie Puffy?”

Puffy nodded. _Charlie, what in the world happened to you?_ “What’s going on, duckling?”

Puffy had walked Charlie over to the car so they could talk without potentially freezing to death, which was quite a wise move. Neither of them spoke, leaving Puffy to notice more concerning details about the kid. Her eyes were still red with tears. Her hood had fallen off to reveal a frankly terrible attempt at a short haircut. A sleeve on her green hoodie was stretched and ripped at one shoulder seam, as if someone had tried to grab her by the arm and failed. 

Most worryingly, the entire left side of her jaw was stained deep purple and red in the beginnings of a horrible bruise. 

Puffy felt sick. 

She opened the car door for her duckling and turned the heater on in hopes she'd stop shivering. Silence fell heavy between the two as they sat in the empty parking lot.

Finally Puffy broke it. “Duckling, what’s going on?”

Charlie took a shuddering breath and looked up at Puffy. “I’m homeless.”

“You’re _what_?”

“My mom- my mom kicked me out an hour ago. I didn’t know what to do, so I called you.” She put her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Auntie.” 

Puffy’s thoughts whirled about her head. Her sister- Charlie’s mom- had kicked her out of the house. Admittedly, she wasn’t very close with her sister, especially not in recent years since they didn’t get on well, but from what Puffy could tell Adha had never seemed like a bad parent in the slightest. She’d definitely never seemed the type to put her own child on the streets. 

Obviously, she’d thought wrong. 

Puffy took a deep breath, processing that information. “...Why did she kick you out? Did you two have a fight?” 

As soon as she said it she regretted the words. _No shit, Sherlock. What did you think leads to a child getting kicked out?_

Charlie was silent for a while. Then she mumbled “Yeah. We had a fight.” 

“...What was it about?”

Another long pause. Puffy wondered briefly if the kid had fallen asleep between sentences. Then she spoke.

“Auntie, does my mom know you’re bisexual?”

 _Why the hell-?_ Puffy felt a flicker of irritation. She knew her duckling could go off on tangents a lot, but this discussion was pretty damn important and she didn’t want to derail the conversation. “No, she doesn’t. Why do you ask?”

Charlie seemed to shrink on herself. “She’s not the most accepting, is she.” 

It was a statement, not a question. 

Puffy was sick of being confused. “Charlie, _where_ are you going with all this?!” Her voice rose a little higher than she meant to, and Charlie seemed to curl up even more, her face completely hidden in the sleeves on her hoodie. Puffy’s gut twisted with guilt. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Charlie whispered something she couldn’t quite hear into her sleeves.

“...What’d you say?”

The kid turned her head towards her, face newly streaked with tears, and mumbled “I came out to my mom, and we had a fight, and she kicked me out.”

And just like that, Puffy felt her heart _shatter_. She swallowed. “You came out.”

Another statement, not a question. Charlie took a deep breath. 

“I came out to her as trans.” A pause. 

“I’m a boy.”

Then there was a silence. 

Her duckling didn’t move from his huddled position on the seat, but Puffy saw him looking at the unlocked door like he was planning to bolt the second she got angry. 

“... Can I hug you?” asked Puffy, keeping her voice quiet.

He hesitated, then leaned over the centre console for a hug, careful to mind his injured jaw. 

Puffy remembered when her duckling was only a kid. Whenever he’d get hurt on the playground, he’d go to her for a hug, and claim that Auntie Puffy’s hugs were magical and could cure any battle injuries. 

She wished he had been right about that one. 

“Do you have a new name, then?” she asked him.

“Dream,” he mumbled. “My name’s Dream.”

“That’s an excellent name.”

They sat like that for a while longer, Puffy reassuring Dream she’d always accept him as her nephew, and Dream starting to believe it. 

  
  



	2. when you sleep I’ll build a wall.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream avoided homelessness, what will he do
> 
> Again a TW for abuse/bad parenting/transphobic mom

Dream woke up and had to take a moment to figure out where the hell he was. 

Gold sunlight streamed in through shutters on the wall, illuminating the grey walls of a living room. He noticed a stack of magazines on a coffee table, an LED lamp shaped like a sheep with glowing rainbow wool, and for some reason a flag on the wall that looked like a combination pirate skull-and-crossbones and bisexual flag.

Ah yes. Puffy’s apartment.

He stood up slowly, trying to remember the events of the night before he’d completely passed out from exhaustion.

He’d crashed on Puffy’s couch- she’d let him stay overnight. Before that he’d been on the receiving end of her first-aid skills. His fingers ghosted over the bruise on the side of his jaw. Not much could be done to help there. Fuck, it hurt. 

Before that, he’d been in Puffy’s car, desperately fighting to stay awake as she told him to get some rest. He probably should have taken her advice, but he felt safer awake. No offense to her- Auntie Puffy had made it clear he could trust her, but after the events of last evening he just couldn’t let his guard down. 

Dream fumbled with the colourful woolen blankets Puffy had set up on the couch, folding them into squares. Before the car, there was that conversation at the park, and before that conversation, there was running as far away from home as he could into the winter air and stopping at the park mid-breakdown. Before the running, there was his mom.

He shook out the second blanket and began folding that one into squares too. 

He had been having a rough time that afternoon, to put it mildly. He hadn’t been able to stand the feeling of long hair on his neck any longer, or the sight of it in the mirror. After hours of agonizing over it, he’d finally just grabbed a pair of scissors from the cupboard, not caring if they weren't good enough for haircuts, chopping away until at least his hair was at the length he wanted it to be, although the style was less than neat. 

In hindsight, cutting his hair was a stupid fucking idea.

His mom had come home early that day, and he hadn’t had time to think of an excuse before she found him in the bathroom with scissors in his hands. She’d absolutely blown up at him, asking what the hell he thought he was doing cutting off all that beautiful hair, and he’d just come right out and said it.

_“I’m a man.”_

_“No, no you’re fucking not.”_

They argued for a long while, and the situation had only escalated from there. She’d yelled about it being a phase, while Dream had insisted it wasn’t, which only made her angrier each time he objected. At some point she had hit him, her fist closed, and he’d been too surprised to feel any pain. 

She had been violent before, sure- thrown stuff at the wall once or twice, destroyed his belongings on more than one occasion, but she’d never actually _hit him._

Maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe he should have called Puffy the first time she’d thrown a glass at him, instead of reasoning that it wasn’t that serious because she wasn’t aiming at him or anything. 

Maybe he should have called her at any point before it got this bad.

After a couple hours of fighting, his mom had offered him an ultimatum.

_“Either you admit it’s a phase or you get out of my house right now. I did not raise a son.”_

Dream had answered truthfully and the next thing he knew, he was being dragged by the sleeve towards his room with orders to “ _Pack a bag and get out of my sight.”_

So that’s what he did before he ran. 

He finished folding the second blanket and set it down on the couch. Through the thin walls he registered the sound of Puffy arguing with someone over the phone and his stomach twisted in dread. He didn’t want to hear it.

Yesterday was enough arguing for a lifetime. 

He tried not to listen to the raised voices in the other room and messed around with some games on his phone until the sounds of shouting were background noise.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pain


	3. there’s so much God in my gene pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puffy makes a call, Dream's haircut gets fixed, and neither of them have any idea what'll happen past tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did promise you guys comfort.

“This conversation’s over, asshole. Dream’s staying with me and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Puffy’s voice was clipped as she spoke over the phone. She’d called her sister the second she woke up, determined to give her hell for kicking her own son out of the house. 

A mature choice? No. Probably not. 

Would it solve anything? Also no.

Undeserved? Not in the slightest. Adha was an abuser and a fucking prick and someone had to say it to her face without fear of retribution. Puffy was that someone.

However, being an abuser and a fucking prick, Adha took the call as an opportunity to argue that literally making Dream homeless was a credit to her as a mother, and it was really just imparting good life lessons on her child. 

_What good life lessons?_ wondered Puffy. _Don’t be trans? Not much of a “lesson” there._

Upon finding out Dream was staying with Puffy for the time being, Adha had started to insult her as well, going so far as to say she was an idiot for even allowing him a place to stay, and then the conversation had just gone downhill from there with the two trading insults. 

This was exactly why Puffy never talked with Adha much- she had this uncanny ability to bring out the worst in her. Their relationship as siblings had been rocky to start off with, Puffy only ever visiting to see her duckling. Now, after seeing what kind of person Adha was behind closed doors, she really didn’t consider her a sister anymore. 

Over the phone, Puffy decided she’d had enough of her cheap shots for the time being. 

“Well, I’m gonna see if my _nephew_ ’s awake yet,” she said. “Lovely talking to you. Go fuck yourself.” 

She hung up, cutting off Adha mid-rant, and wandered into the living room. She didn’t expect Dream to be awake. The kid had had an awful night. He needed as much rest as possible. 

She knew getting enough sleep wouldn’t do shit against the aftermath of yesterday, but it would be better than trying to deal with everything that had happened on a burned-out brain. 

It was a start. 

Dream was, in fact, awake. He was back to being curled up on the couch, hunched over his phone like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. He never used to do that. 

Puffy wondered when that had changed- after last night, or was it a habit that built up over the years of living with his mom, and it was only now visible? 

He looked up as soon as she walked through the door, slipping his phone into the pocket of his ruined hoodie and smiling tiredly.

“Hi Auntie.” 

She smiled back. “Good morning, duckling.”

There was much to be said about delaying conversations. 

Dream and Puffy managed to put off the discussion of _what the hell are we gonna do now?_ for probably more time than was appropriate. They ate breakfast- Puffy was an absolute pro at cooking omelets, as it turned out. They fixed Dream’s unfortunate attempt at a haircut with some clippers Puffy dug out of her cupboard and surprisingly knew how to use. It was nice to see him smile in the mirror for once. They played Minecraft- Dream decimated Puffy’s speedrunning record.

The question still hung over them like Damocles’ sword.

They played more Minecraft. Dream fell asleep halfway through a speedrun. Puffy reminded Dream to keep ice on the bruise on his face. It wasn’t until Dream wondered how he would hide the bruise at school the next day that the subject became undeniable.

“Uh… I have concealer?” Puffy tried. “Wait, do you even want to go to school tomorrow?” School had been the last thing on her mind after all that had happened. 

Dream shook his head. “Not really. But I can’t get another detention for unexcused absences, and Mom won’t call in sick for me, so… kinda have to.”

Damn the public high school system. “I’ll call in for you. It’s probably allowed. You can just follow along with homework online, right?”

Dream nodded. “Yeah.” A pause. “Auntie, do you think my mom’s gonna let me go back home?”

Puffy looked up from her book. “I don’t… I don’t know. I talked to her this morning and she seemed… mad.” 

_Mad didn’t cover it. Adha had been fucking furious. She’d probably try and hurt Dream if she saw him again anytime soon. Living with her was not an option._ She swallowed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back anytime soon, even if she did let you. But you can stay here for the time being.” 

_He might end up living with her,_ she realized with a start. She would be alright with that; she wasn’t short on money, and the apartment was big enough for two people. Would Dream be alright with that? With no other family members aside from her and Adha, it wasn’t like he had many options, unless he had school friends that could take him in or something. 

Maybe he did- if the day’s events had made anything at all clear, it was that Puffy had no idea what was going on in her duckling’s life. 

She closed her book. 

They’d cross each bridge as they came to it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are wondering how Puffy could have the resources to suddenly take in a child (in this economy?) her canon job in the fic is now piracy and she’s incredibly rich as a result. 
> 
> It’s a lucrative business.


	4. i’ll leave once i figure out how to pay for my own life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW for a panic attack
> 
> Dream’s mom really came through with the trust issues here, damn.

A grand total of one day had gone by since the argument. Puffy had called in to say Dream was sick, and he had stayed at her apartment and done homework online for the day.

It was better than going to school, he figured. School was monotonous and boring at the best of times. He didn’t see the point of showing up for 8 hours and doing 2 hours worth of productive work, and it didn’t really have much else going for it. He could simply put his time to better use coding, or doing some other useful shit that could actually get him places in life. 

Today, though, he _speedran_ through his homework. Not even on purpose- he just needed to be as productive as possible. He needed something to focus on. He needed his mind to keep moving. If he took a moment alone with his thoughts, he’d start thinking about the argument again, and about his mom kicking him out, and then reality would sink in and that would not be ideal in the slightest. Letting his mind wander was a dark road he could tell he did _not_ want to go down. He finished the last page of meaningless English class bullshit- something about _Macbeth,_ he didn’t care- and shared it with his teacher _._

Done. 

Now what?

He knew Puffy was in the other room working, and figured he shouldn’t disturb her. If he had his laptop, he could have opened up Forge and worked on some minecraft mods. But he didn’t- he was using Puffy’s spare one, while his was still at his mom’s house with the other stuff he didn’t get the chance to pack. 

_What other stuff was that?_ he wondered. He’d left the house with spare clothes, his phone, and some cash he’d saved shoved into a backpack. He definitely knew his laptop was one of the things still in the house, as well as his school textbooks and some notebooks filled with half-finished ideas for projects. He didn’t even get the chance to find his winter coat before his mom had literally shoved him out the door, which was just another thing missing. Most of what he’d left probably wasn’t important, but he realized now that he’d likely never see any of that stuff again. The way Puffy had said it, he might not ever live at home again.

Was that place home? He didn’t know.

Technically, he was still homeless. Couch-surfing. Not only that, but he had no idea how long he’d be welcome at Puffy’s. If she kicked him out then he really would have nowhere to run, which terrified him. He did have friends at school, but their friendship was more of a _hey man can I copy off your algebra homework_ rather than a _hey man can I stay at your house for an indefinite amount of time as a homeless teen_ kind of deal. 

Okay, he had to calm down. 

Puffy probably wouldn’t kick him out, right? 

He ignored the fact that he had thought the exact same thing about his mom right before coming out. No. Puffy wouldn’t kick him out for the time being, she’d said it herself. But he knew that wouldn’t last forever. Everyone had their limits. 

At one point she’d probably decide enough was enough and tell him to leave.

That _was_ what his mom had done, after all. 

He sat down on the couch again, his head spinning. _Calm down_ , he told himself. _Stop thinking about it. Think about something else. Anything else. Please._

He couldn’t. His brain just kept going. Stupid fucking brain.

_Calm down._ _Calm down._

His vision blurred out at the edges. He could barely register sounds anymore. Everything sounded so strangely far away, like he had sunk too far underwater and the only thing in his ears was deathly silence. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

The only thing in his mind was less semi-coherent worrying and more of a tangled chaos of thoughts he couldn’t identify, making him more panicked by the second. It _hurt_ , god, everything hurt so much. The side of his face still ached, which made him feel so much worse. He couldn't breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t think straight at this point. The only thing he could do was curl up and try to keep quiet while suffocating, silently hoping and praying to make it through this quickly. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

All he knew was that before, Puffy had been in the other room working, but now she was kneeling in front of him asking him something he couldn’t quite understand in a soft voice- everything still sounded like he was underwater. He could try and focus on her voice, though. He could at least do that.

She sounded so worried.

She didn’t try to put her hand on his shoulder to reassure him like she had done at the park and Dream appreciated that. His skin felt like static and if he had to deal with any physical contact he’d probably just start crying again. He'd done enough of that in the past few days. 

At some point he found he could form coherent thoughts again.

_Calm down._

He had to calm down. Puffy was still talking softly next to him, her voice giving him something to focus on instead of the chaos in his brain. 

He was okay. Puffy was here. He didn’t have to worry. He had to calm down.

“I’m so sorry, Auntie” he whispered, once he trusted himself to talk. 

He didn’t even know if Puffy had heard him. He just wanted to apologize. 

“Why are you sorry, duckling?” 

_I don’t know._ “Sorry for panicking.”

“You don’t have to apologize. That’s not your fault.”

“But I made you worry.”

“I’d rather worry about you than have you be miserable without being able to help, Dream.”

Dream leaned against Puffy so that they were both sitting side-by-side on the couch. He didn’t know what to say to that one.

After a silence Puffy spoke again.

“Do you want to tell me what happened? You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

He hesitated.

“I don’t know. I thought about getting kicked out, and then I realized I don’t know what to do next, and that was terrifying.” 

His words hung heavy in the air.

“What to do next?”

“Well...” He fumbled for something to say. If he mentioned he was worried about not having any place to stay later on, she might get mad. She had let him stay in her house. He should be grateful, not already planning for the day he’d inevitably be on his own again. But if he didn’t answer, she’d figure it out soon enough.

“I mean… like a long term plan, or something.”

Puffy’s face was unreadable.

What if she was mad?

Oh god, he had fucked up, hadn’t he? He tried to explain. “I mean, I'm still technically homeless? And I’ll have to find a place to stay longer than a few days.” He stared out across the room, not wanting to see Puffy’s reaction. “And I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

Puffy was quiet. Dream was really beginning to hate all this quiet.

“Dream,” Puffy started, “I said you could stay here for as long as you need. And if that means a few days or a few years, it doesn’t matter. But I’m not going to make you leave before you’re ready, okay? If you need to stay long-term, then of course we can figure that out.”

_Well, now he was crying again._

Puffy tentatively put an arm around him and he leaned into the hug, resting his head atop her shoulder.

“Everything will be fine, duckling.”

They sat like that for a while.

“I think I’ll have to stay here. For a long time,” Dream managed to admit. “There’s like, nowhere else I can go.” 

Puffy nodded. “That’s okay.” 

“You’ll always have a home here, Dream.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misspelled Dream saying “sorry for panicking” and autocorrect thought he was saying “sorry for pancit”
> 
> that’s the opposite of a problem, don’t ever apologize for pancit.


	5. leaving ascetic belongings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for Adha’s A+ parenting, mentioned child abuse, deadnaming and misgendering (intentional), unsafe binding

The drive up to Adha’s house was too long for Puffy to sit alone with her thoughts. She was off to collect Dream’s stuff from the old house, since he had arrived at her place with basically nothing, and Dream was at home since visiting Adha’s probably wouldn’t be safe for him.

So here she was, making the drive on her own. 

Upon arriving at the house Puffy noticed one crucial detail. Adha’s car was gone from the driveway, meaning the asshole in question was probably at work, meaning no one would be able to let Puffy inside. The original plan- drive to Adha’s place, enter the house because god dammit she was an adult and Adha couldn’t threaten her, and evacuate having acquired Dream’s stuff- was a no go. She’d have to find another way to get in, barring her powers of incredible persuasion.

 _Hm..._

The front window probably had alarms, and she hadn’t the slightest idea how to open it without breaking any glass. She knew there was another, easier-to-open window that overlooked the roof, but said roof was covered in ice and Puffy did not have a death wish or decent escalading skills. 

That left one option. She pulled out her phone.

**majorpuffy:** hey do u know if ur mom has a spare key somewhere

**duckling:** should be taped under the mailbox

Of fucking course. 

Puffy checked under the mailbox, slit the spare key from its duct-taped prison, and took a moment to herself to wonder how in the hell Adha had never gotten robbed.

She turned the key in the lock. The door swung open soundlessly in the cold wind.

Making her way upstairs to Dream’s old room was like passing through a ghost town. 

A little morbid, sure, but she couldn’t shake the comparaison. She walked to the end of the hall and turned on the light in his room.

Alright. That was definitely creepy.

Her duckling’s old room was in disarray, clothes strewn haphazardly across the room as if someone had been looking for something in a hurry. Technically, that _was_ exactly what had happened the night Dream had left. The unsettling bit was that it was obvious no one had set foot in the room for a while. The place looked frozen in time, untouched as an exhibit in a museum. Simultaneously lived-in and stone dead.

She shook off the foreboding feeling and concentrated on what to pack. 

First order of business: clothes. Easy. Puffy went through the kid’s closet and packed all the essentials into the suitcase, leaving behind feminine clothes that Adha had picked out for him. Those could stay. She checked every drawer in hopes she wouldn't forget to take anything important. One drawer contained nothing but two green hoodies identical to the one Dream had shown up in. 

_Why would anyone buy three of the same hoodie?_

Some questions were probably better left unanswered. At least now he’d have a replacement for the one that got ripped. She packed the hoodies into the suitcase, her hand accidentally pushing aside the bottom of the drawer in the process, the wood tilting in an odd way. 

_Shit, did I break the drawer?_

_Or..._

Puffy attempted to sort out the wooden panel, which seemed to not be connected to anything. _Huh._ She looked at the drawer again from the outside, then from the inside. The panel she’d knocked askew wasn’t actually the bottom of the drawer as she had first assumed; it looked more like a cover for a homemade secret compartment. 

Should she look under the panel? Dream had obviously wanted to keep whatever was in the secret compartment a secret, and she wouldn’t want to invade her duckling’s privacy. On the other hand, if it was important enough to hide, it might be something he would need. And if he was trying to keep it a secret from Adha, leaving whatever it was here would probably just make her more likely to find it.

Okay. Puffy pried the wooden panel out of the drawer and glanced at what was inside. 

One sports bra and a couple rolls of duct tape.

_Why would Dream hide… Oh._

_Oh no._

_Had he been doing that all this time? That’s not healthy at all._

She left the tape where it was and closed the drawer. They’d need to talk about getting him a proper binder, but that conversation could wait until she got home. She remembered Dream saying he’d left his winter jacket here, which turned out to be buried under a pile of scarves by the back door.

Second order of business: the kid’s laptop with all his digital stuff saved. She found that and a spare charger in the living room.

Third and final order of business: Personal belongings? 

Puffy went back to his room to look for anything in particular he might want. There wasn’t much there to start off with. She did remember him mentioning leaving notebooks behind though, maybe those were important. 

Puffy glanced at the desk; it was strewn with loose paper, mostly schoolwork and transcribed code. Notebooks covered in doodles and miscellaneous textbooks were stacked on the left side of the desk, and she packed both of those. He’d definitely need the textbooks. 

Was there anything else? The room was pretty much empty otherwise. She scanned through the desk again and realised that what she had assumed to be loose paper was a shredded notebook, looking like the ones she had packed moments prior.

She had a pretty good idea who had done that, too.

Fuck Adha.

She turned away. She had gotten everything she came here for. Now to make her escape, replace the key, and get back home with a mission accomplished.

Puffy reached for the doorknob of Dream’s room, and as if on cue, she heard the front door slam shut and the sounds of footsteps in the stairwell. 

_Oh shit._ She moved back from the door. Adha was coming down the hallway now, probably having realized someone was home from the door Puffy had neglected to lock behind her, and she did _not_ want to get in her way. For a brief moment, she entertained the idea of climbing out the window, before realising that would probably be fatal. 

The door slammed open with a crash as Adha burst into the room. 

“Charlie, I fucking _warned_ you about coming back here-”

She stopped short.

It was a weird scene, Puffy standing in the middle of the room with packed suitcases none of which belonged to her and her sister staring her down from the doorway, not quite sure what to make of this occurrence.

She coughed. “Are you breaking into my house now?”

“No,” said Puffy automatically, then backtracked. “Well, kind of. Technically. You had it coming, though.”

Adha raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a bitch,” added Puffy, as if that changed anything. “And I’m breaking into your house to get Dream’s stuff.”

Adha snorted, like she found the entire situation amusing. She probably did. Maybe the past few days were one big joke to her. “You’re still calling her that?”

“Yeah, that’s his name.”

“I’m well aware of her name, Puffy, I’m her mother.”

“You’re a shitty mom,” replied Puffy, still only stating the obvious. 

Adha scoffed. “Call me whatever you like, I’ve heard it before. This’ll just teach her a lesson.”

Puffy’s fist tightened around the suitcase. “What kind of fucking lesson was that?” she demanded. “You kicked your own son out of the house and you _still_ want to call yourself his mom? Pass that off as some sort of parenting moment? Convince yourself you’re a good person for trying to put him on the streets?”

“I’m teaching her not to undermine my authority. And it’s not like _you_ would understand. You don’t have kids.” 

_Ouch._

“If I had kids, I’d never try to make them homeless! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Adha twisted the doorknob.

“Charlie needed to learn that there are consequences in life.”

“Consequences for what? For trusting you?”

“No. Consequences for being delusional. She knows I don’t support that shit. She can come back when she’s ready to stop pretending”

“You’re kidding yourself if you think he’s ever coming back here.”

“Oh, I’m sure she will. This is the only home she has. She’ll have to come back once she realizes she’s wrong.”

Puffy was absolutely livid. She paused. “...What if he had come back right now? Would you have hit him?”

The older woman considered the question for longer than was necessary. 

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Puffy swallowed. “I saw you come in.” She gestured at the door. “I was scared, and you only stopped when you recognized me. But you thought Dream had been standing here.”

Adha was still looking her in the eye. 

“If he came back you would have hit him. Don’t lie.”

Adha’s gaze shifted to the popcorn ceiling. 

“... That wouldn’t be my intention _._ ” She swept a lock of white-blond hair out of her eyes. “But I would have made it clear she wasn’t welcome here anytime soon.” 

Puffy was silent.

“Now, if she apologized for the fight,” continued Adha, “I probably wouldn’t have hit her-”

“You know what?” snapped Puffy. “You are fucking _dead_ to me.” She readjusted the bag slipping off her shoulder and picked up the suitcase. “And to Dream.”

Adha laughed again. “Say what you like, she’ll realize she’s wrong. It’s only a matter of time. I won’t stop you from getting her stuff, but eventually you’re going to have to stop entertaining her delusions.”

“Will you just _shut up_?” Puffy shoved past her into the hallway. God, she had to get out of this house. 

How had Dream lived here for 15 years? 

How the hell had she not noticed a single thing wrong with that?

She stumbled downstairs, finding her boots at the doorway, and turned back to see Adha standing behind her like some kind of phantom, watching as she walked outside and set the two bags down in the trunk of her car.

Puffy looked back at the door. Adha leaned against the entryway, her face unreadable and still so infuriating. 

“It would be really easy to rob you, by the way!” yelled Puffy before shutting the car door and driving off. 

She knew it was immature, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care anymore. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> played football today and almost suffocated but what pray tell is the fun of gym class if you’re not always on the thin thin line between athletics and hypoxia
> 
> also never ever bind with duct tape it will fuck you up


	6. coming around, coming around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> green man in school, what will he do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bugs bunny voice* I wish all school attendance policies a very fuck you

The American public high school building was widely considered to not be the happiest place on earth. 

For Dream, it could very easily become his personal definition of hell after today. 

After a week of staying at Puffy’s and doing homework online, hanging out together, helping her with chores, the occasional breakdown over the fact that anything constant or familiar in his life had dissolved over one night and he still had no idea how to process that- the school, for some godforsaken reason, had contacted them with a reminder that they had a cap on the number of “sick days” one student could take at a time before they started marking you absent.

Which was absolutely fucking bullshit, what if a kid had a chronic illness or something like that and had to take more days off? It made no sense. In the end, though, he’d decided to go back, because he couldn’t avoid it forever. He had never liked school much to start off with- it was hours on end of mindless busywork he couldn’t see a point to. Other kids might be willing to deal with that since school meant seeing friends, but Dream simply did not have those. The people he hung out with were more like mutual acquaintances, a bond forged on sharing homework answers, saving seats in the cafeteria and filling the 8 hours of state-sanctioned torture with Among Us games. They barely ever talked- he could count on one hand the amount of times since September they’d had a conversation longer than 5 minutes. 

He supposed he really _could_ make an effort to be more sociable, but more people talking to him would only mean more people unintentionally misgendering him, so that was a no. 

After today, though, all that would hopefully change. Puffy, being the greatest aunt in existence, had emailed the school office before Dream was set to go back, informing them of a name and pronouns change. With any luck, his teachers would have gotten the memo, and he wouldn’t have to deal with being deadnamed in attendance or whenever he answered questions in class anymore. 

Worst case scenario, kids at his school could be transphobic assholes and make the next three years a living hell for him once he came out, so it stood to reason that he was nervous.

In first block, Ms. Kaplan started off taking attendance as per usual. 

Dream’s name was near the end of the list. 

“Lizzie?”

“Here!” 

“Punz?” 

“Present.” 

“...Dream?”

Dream raised his hand. “Here.”

People were definitely looking his way- understandable, they’d never heard his name before and were probably confused as to why the list had changed halfway through the year. He ignored them. They’d connect the dots eventually.

“George?”

“Uh, George says he overslept,” reported a kid named Sapnap from the back of the class. “And he told me to tell you he missed the bus.”

Ms. Kaplan sighed. “Of course he did. Okay, now I hope you’ve all done the assigned reading, because we have a group project coming up soon…”

The rest of the day had gone smoothly. Some people had shot confused looks at him upon hearing the attendance list in other classes, but no one had confronted him about it.

He was grateful for that.

School didn’t suck all the time, perhaps.

The last class for the day was chemistry. He made it just before the bell and arrived at the assigned seat next to his lab partner, who was currently preoccupied with a beat-up library book on Greek myths. They were always reading the most random shit- _The Art of War,_ the story of the Minotaur- once Dream had asked what they were reading out of sheer boredom and they had tilted the cover up to reveal a published study on the farming of potatoes. 

Come to think of it, that was probably the most interaction they had had so far despite being lab partners since September. They didn’t talk outside of class either, despite belonging to the same general crew of homework communists. The only reason Dream even knew their name was through Mr. Clark taking attendance.

Speak of the devil, Mr. Clark motioned for the class to quiet down and started going through the list. 

“Sam?” 

“Present.”

“Alyssa?”

“Hi.”

“Technoblade?”

They looked up from their book, a rare occurrence in class. “Here.” 

“Dream?”

“Here.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dream noticed Technoblade glance at him. The rest of the names went by and they didn’t say anything.

Dream always ended up doing chemistry work alone. Since the beginning of the year, Technoblade had just read their books for the entirety of class while Dream was always the one to set up labs. Sometimes he wondered how they managed to stay in this class when he’d never so much as seen them take notes. Maybe Mr. Clark played favourites or something.

Maybe he figured it was useless to try and convince anyone bored enough to read about potato farming to pay attention in class. Whatever. Dream could work on his own. 

Halfway through class, a note in red pen landed on his side of the table.

_Are you trans_

Huh.

Dream scribbled an answer and handed it back to Technoblade. 

**Yes.**

They unfolded the paper and wrote something back.

_Why would you pick the name Dream_

_Out of all possible names_

_Dream_

**Your name is Technoblade, you do not get to judge** **.**

Dream actually heard them laugh at that one, such an unprecedented event in all of chemistry class history that even Mr. Clark looked up from grading assignments.

Maybe school had upsides.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me you had a good day today without actually telling me you had a good day today
> 
> here I'll start: today I saw a goose which was incredible and improved the vibes of today exponentially

**Author's Note:**

> PSA: Kick your kids out the house and I will fucking hunt you for sport.
> 
> Constructive criticism appreciated


End file.
